Chapter 633: Death Struggle

Tong Pass.

A dusty gray rat suddenly sprang up, hurling itself again and again at the loosely latched wooden door on the threshold, squeaking angrily.

Tao Hui sat slumped against a coffin indoors. He reached inside the crossed collar of his soldier's tunic to scratch at festering boils; the pain forced him alert, and he went on loading ammunition into his three-eyed gun.

His heavy breathing sounded like a bellows being worked. Tao Hui had long known Tong Pass could not be held.

He was a household retainer and vanguard elite under the command of Tong Pass Guard Commander Zhang E'you.

Fifteen days ago, he had fought the great rat swarm at Tong Pass. Ten days ago, a fever set in, and he realized he was infected with the plague. He volunteered to follow Zhang E'you out of the pass and fight the Marshal's Army with his diseased body. They lost three battles in a row.

He fled back to Tong Pass, too feverish to rise, nearly dead. It was only thanks to the scholar Sheng Zhaozhi, who saved his life with three bowls of ephedra and cimicifuga decoction.

But it only saved his life. The Tong Pass Guard's medicinal supplies were limited. The plague had taken his wife, children, and elderly mother within days; they all lay in the coffin behind him.

Five days ago, when Wei Qian'er attacked the pass, Tao Hui could not even crawl out of bed. Even now, his face was still as yellow as Dian Wei in the clapper opera.

Add to that the boils and scabs all over his body, and the man exuded an aura of utter ruin — death imminent, reincarnation not far off.

In his condition, he was actually among the luckier ones in the Tong Pass garrison.

During the three days he lay bedridden recovering, Tong Pass's walled city was overrun by the swarming Marshal's Army. Although the soldiers and civilians inside the pass far outnumbered the Marshal's Army troops under Wei Qian'er, they were still overrun.

Wei Qian'er had no siege engines, not even scaling ladders. He used the most primitive method of assault: men swarming up the walls like ants.

They first cleared the countryside west of Tong Pass, then split into two forces. One tore down houses and filled earth sacks outside the western gate; the other rushed up the southern plateau, crossed the Forbidden Trench on foot, and attacked the Twelve Linked Fortresses, whose garrisons were empty.

Most of those fortress-cities, which belonged to the Tong Pass defensive system, had been abandoned due to the rat plague. There were no defending troops inside at all; they fell about as fast as an army could march.

Within a single day, Tong Pass, still in the midst of plague preparations, became a lone, isolated city.

Afterward, Wei Qian'er's troops used strong bows, firelocks, lion cannons, and thousand-catty cannons from the riverbank to lay down covering fire against the defenders on the wall. At the same time, they drove mule and horse teams, pushing brick, timber, earth, and stone into the Forbidden Trench, filling in the moat. They went further, hurling earth sacks at the foot of the wall and climbing up over the piled earth to scale the city.

Tong Pass is a mountain fortress built against the slopes, facing the Yellow River to the north.

It possesses a complete defensive system facing both east and west. It is the gateway guarding the Central Plains to the west, and also the great gate defending the Three Qin region to the east.

This mighty pass was a key stronghold from which the Mongols exerted pressure on the Central Plains during the Yuan Dynasty, and it also decided the hegemony of the realm in the early Ming. This determined its crucial military importance.

Yet for most of the Ming Dynasty, in practical terms, it was not nearly so important.

Since the Jiajing era, silver had flowed in in great quantities, and the Great Ming Empire had entered a period of rapid development and prosperity that had now lasted a hundred years.

During this century, Tong Pass, as an inland checkpoint under complex jurisdiction, had as its greatest mission the garrisoning of Daming.

Daming Prefecture, in Northern Zhili — the banner troops of the Tong Pass Guard had to garrison there, under the control of the Daming Military Defense Circuit.

Because in the sixth year of the Yongle reign, Tong Pass began to fall under the administrative jurisdiction of Northern Zhili, with military and civil evaluations handled by the grand coordinator and regional inspector of Zhili.

Even before the fifth year of the Xuande reign, because it was a directly-administered guard, the banner troops of the Tong Pass Guard also had to undertake grain transport duties on the northern section, traveling all the way east to the Grand Canal to escort tribute barges.

Militarily, the Tong Pass Guard's superior was the Central Army Chief Commissioner's Office in Southern Zhili. Therefore, as capital rotation troops, the banner soldiers also had to go to Nanjing every year to report for duty.

So the Tong Pass Guard had long been subject to multiple overlapping jurisdictions. Geographically, Shaanxi governed it; administratively, Northern Zhili governed it; militarily, Southern Zhili governed it; in terms of garrisoning, Henan governed it.

For a very long time, the daily routine of the Tong Pass Guard's banner troops consisted of traveling all over the country and doing a little trading on the side.

Over the span of a hundred years, the most significant battle fought here was during the Jiajing era, when rampant gold mining bandits, drawn by rich deposits, led Commander Sheng De to lead a campaign. He died in the fighting.

In truth, if one calculated solely by manpower, firepower, and equipment, the Tong Pass garrison should have had no way to lose.

Their manpower was double that of Wei Qian'er's main camp, and their cannons were five times as numerous.

But peace had lasted too long. Trees had been planted on the river embankments outside the western wall, and the western suburbs were full of civilian houses and courtyards. These provided excellent cover for Wei Qian'er's army, while conversely making it difficult for the defenders on the wall to aim, putting them at a disadvantage in the exchange of fire.

Firing cannons without hitting anyone not only drew mockery from Wei Qian'er's troops, but further damaged the defenders' morale.

So much so that Wei Qian'er, using only one battalion of field cannons paired with firelocks, was able to suppress an entire stretch of wall, allowing his soldiers to clamber up and scale the pass.

The moment the first Marshal's Army soldier set foot on the wall, the fall of Tong Pass was declared.

The Tong Pass Guard's banner troops held no advantage during the ranged exchange atop the wall. Once the Marshal's Army climbed onto the ramparts, the banner troops' sickly wretches could barely even swing their weapons, let alone fight hand-to-hand — that was even more impossible.

The fighting after the breach of Tong Pass, however, did not go as smoothly as Wei Qian'er had imagined.

As early as when he received word that Wei Qian'er's troops were thinning out the city, Tong Pass Guard Commander Zhang E'you had already reached a judgment in his heart: the fall of Tong Pass was only a matter of time.

Although the garrison was large, even more men were laid low by illness. So much so that although the entire pass city held over ten thousand soldiers and civilians, they could not be organized. Even now, they had not even carried out a scorched-earth policy.

The beams, pillars, bricks, and tiles of the houses outside the city would all become tools for the rebel army to fill moats and assault the walls. This meant scaling the city would be simple.

And in combat atop the walls, the soldiers and civilians, half of whom were sick or wounded, could not possibly be a match for the Marshal's Army.

After all, thanks to the strategic planning of Commander Sheng Yida, and the younger generation of the Sheng family — the two scholars Sheng Kuizhi and Sheng Zhaozhi — prescribing the right remedy for the illness, the Tong Pass Guard now had a basic understanding of this disease.

By their reckoning, this battalion of the Marshal's Army still had at least two days before large-scale infections would break out.

They had to use sick and wounded troops to resist the able-bodied men of the Marshal's Manor. How could that be easy?

But even if they couldn't hold it, they had to hold it. Not only hold it, but drag the Marshal's Army down at Tong Pass for as long as possible. Even if they died, they would drag them down to die together.

Tong Pass's defensive deployment was simple. Assistant Commander Li Jizu would lead the soldiers and civilians onto the walls to direct the defense, holding out for as long as they could.

Commander Sheng Yida would lead the surviving military dependents, the old and weak who had no combat strength but were still alive, escorting carts, grain, and valuables in a migration eastward to Qinwang Fort outside the eastern gate.

As for Commander Zhang E'you, he assembled every banner soldier in Tong Pass still capable of fighting, and prepared for street combat amid the pass's intricate maze of streets.

Zhang E'you's mobilization of the officers and banner troops was equally simple.

To the guard's hereditary officers, he said: "We have basked in the state's grace for generations, received noble titles and official salaries. Since we cannot defend the borders, today is the day we repay the country with our deaths!"

To the banner troops, his words were different: "If there is a path to survival, there is no shame in surrender. But we are all gravely ill, and they too will contract the disease. Even if we surrender and suffer humiliation, we still cannot escape death. Why not fight with all our might and die here? Then our families to the east will be safe."

The hereditary officers naturally had nothing more to say. The banner troops whose families were heading east with Sheng Yida could accept this outcome. And those whose families had all perished in the plague had nothing left to live for anyway — any way of dying was fine.

In this era, street fighting was always the worst possible option.

First, once commanding heights like the gate towers were seized, the movements of the defending troops inside the city were, one could say, completely exposed.

Second, although the defenders had the advantage of knowing the terrain and streets, with their vision obstructed and banners and drums for signaling difficult to execute, commanders could not direct troops swiftly. They could only command the soldiers directly in front of them.

This meant that in street fighting, defenders were hard to organize. It was difficult to rapidly shift reinforcements, and difficult to quickly relocate after an attack.

But these problems did not exist for Zhang E'you and the Tong Pass banner troops.

They needed no high-ranking generals to command them, no organization, no redeployment, no relocation.

The instant the city was breached, scattered soldiers each took up positions in the houses and courtyards within the city. Those banner troops with any strength left climbed onto roofs to exchange fire. Those without the strength simply crouched inside, hugging a firelock and staring at the doorway, ready at any moment to shoot dead the first man who burst through.

It didn't matter if no one came in — their days were numbered anyway, just waiting to die.

At every street corner, groups of five or six, seven or eight riders with leveled lances would charge the formation; sometimes cavalrymen were shot off their horses by firelocks, and more than a few brave ones broke into the formation slashing and trampling wildly.

In short, the banner troops of Tong Pass Guard were earnestly seeking a dignified way to reincarnate.

Wei Qian'er, burning with fever, entered the city on the first day of the month and immediately heard that the vanguard was being ambushed by Ming troops at street corners and shot at from houses — which made him, already weak and feeble, even more irritable: "We've taken the city walls, and you're letting them push us around?"

"Turn the cannons on the walls around to face into the city, and fire at anyone you see."

"Don't fight them house by house. If you sense someone inside, throw whatever you have in your hands in first — blow it up, then talk."

"Hurry up and slaughter everything that moves!"

Ever since this encampment marched on Tong Pass, every man had believed his remaining time in this world could be counted on his fingers.

The halter Liu Chengzong had painstakingly woven fell to the ground; over four thousand camp soldiers broke free of their shackles, and all those taboos were gone.

As Wei Qian'er gave the order, soon every kind of artillery roared from the city walls, hurling solid iron balls of varying sizes, grapeshot, and even explosive shells at the dwellings of soldiers and civilians inside the city.

These were all the defensive weapons the Ming army had left on the walls — from bowl-mouth cannons firing explosive shells to general cannons firing solid iron balls, and even Frankish breech-loaders firing mixed loads of grapeshot and solid shot — for a time the walls thundered with unceasing cannon fire.

Iron balls like sledgehammers punched through wall after brick wall.

Grapeshot like hail pierced walls and shattered windows, tearing doors and windows to shreds.

Even the frontline infantry — every squad carried a few flying thunder shells; when they came upon a house that felt dangerous, they'd hurl two shells inside first.

Truth be told, the flying thunder shell was never a particularly good weapon in normal use — the two-stage ignition increased accidents, and the longer range made it easier to snuff out the shell's fuse, causing misfires.

But in the peculiar terrain of streets and alleys, simply tossing the shells straight into courtyards proved unexpectedly effective.

Ease of use was excellent, and the lethality was even more impressive.

Two hours after entering Tong Pass, a massive explosion erupted from the direction of the Guard Headquarters.

Wei Qian'er, up on the western wall's gate tower, could see the dust cloud billowing from the blast.

Soon, a messenger darting through the streets on horseback reported back to him: the Ming army's Commandant Zhang Eryan had been killed in the fray.

As the encampment troops pushed from west to east through Tong Pass and were about to assault the Guard Headquarters, Zhang Eryan led over forty riders in several charges through the side lanes.

He was a fierce general through and through — though his body was in poor shape after falling ill, he could still don armor, ride, shoot at a gallop, and slash wildly with his blade; the soldiers killed or wounded by his hand alone numbered sixteen.

Correspondingly, many of his cavalry were also shot dead, until only five riders remained.

On the final charge, Zhang Eryan, already pierced by more than ten arrows, was struck square in the chest at close range by a firelock.

Iron armor could not stop the Marshal's Army's standard heavy muskets; a lead ball weighing one tael and five mace could drop an ox or horse at two hundred paces — let alone hitting a man at close range.

The front of Zhang Eryan's lamellar armor only had a single plate fragment shattered, but the back of the armor was blown open with a hole the size of a man's head — even the heart-protector mirror behind it was smashed to pieces by the fragmented lead ball.

Of the five remaining cavalrymen, four were surrounded and captured by the Marshal's Army while trying to seize Zhang Eryan's body.

These men had no intention of surrendering at all; they fought over Zhang Eryan's corpse only because it was an order he had given them before the battle began.

"If I fall in battle, do not let the rebels take my body."

Even when completely surrounded, they still wanted to fight to the bitter end, and were only captured after their weapons were struck from their hands.

One man, however, did not fight for the body — he galloped straight back to the Guard Headquarters, and not long after, the great blast sounded from there.

According to the captives, it was Zhang Eryan's wife, concubine, and daughter.

He had originally had two sons. The elder son had followed him out of the city to fight and died in the first clash with Wei Qian'er.

The younger son had fallen ill when the plague struck; it happened that the physician had died and the two Sheng sons had not yet come out to practice medicine with their medical texts, and the garrison in the pass knew nothing of this disease — he could not be saved and died.

Only his wife, concubine, and daughter remained. None of them were willing to go with Sheng Yida to Prince Qin's Stockade outside the eastern pass, so they piled gunpowder and firewood in the Guard Headquarters. When they learned Zhang Eryan had fallen in battle, they ignited the gunpowder, blasting themselves and the Guard Headquarters to smithereens.

And so, the last organized defensive force within Tong Pass was annihilated under Wei Qian'er's command.

Afterward, mopping up the scattered soldiers still resisting stubbornly in the houses went even more smoothly.

They even found the granaries where the Ming army stored its provisions that very day — countless stores of grain and rice, and countless rats.

The granaries, riddled with holes, had practically become rat nests.

When Wei Qian'er received the news, he immediately descended from the gate tower and galloped straight into the granary. Seeing the grain piled like mountains, he revealed a smile of relief for the first time since the plague had struck.

Ignoring the rats scurrying everywhere, he slashed open a grain sack with one stroke of his blade and watched the grain pour rustling from the gash in the sack. He said to those beside him, "Excellent. This way, even if we all perish from the plague, we can leave something for the Marshal's estate, to repay the Marshal's grace in feeding and keeping us."

With those words, Wei Qian'er, who had been burning with fever for two days without rest, finally could hold on no longer. He took two steps, his mind went blank, and he toppled onto the grain sacks.

Everyone hurriedly scrambled to carry him out of the granary to a cool, shaded place.

Fortunately, the problem of Tong Pass was largely settled; now only the encampment's own problem remained.

No one gave the order, and no one knew which squad started it, but in less than half a day, everyone in the entire encampment — except the two hundred men garrisoning the east gate — had stripped off their armor and helmets, laid down their weapons, and taken down their squad banners.

According to unit organization, they neatly arranged the arms, cannons, and gunpowder outside the western gate of Tong Pass.

Then they found a place in the city to settle those too sick to rise, while the remaining soldiers still able to move began tearing down houses, felling trees and splitting planks, rushing to build coffins.

At the same time, they hauled the Ming army corpses visible everywhere in the city outside the eastern gate.

The mess soldiers took out the stored grain from the granaries, butchered the dead and wounded warhorses in the city, and from morning to night prepared all manner of fine foods.

Some even dug grave pits outside the city, set up tablets for themselves, and staked claims on carefully chosen plots of auspicious ground.

Every soldier of the encampment in Tong Pass was contemplating what came after death.

Near dusk, the garrison troops stationed on the eastern wall suddenly noticed enormous shadows sweeping rapidly across the open ground in the city, again and again.

People raised their heads against the evening setting sun, and strange glimmers of light shone on their numb faces.

A sacred bird of the snowy mountains that should never appear in the Central Plains spread its wings, its plumage bathed in golden radiance beneath the sunlight, circling and gliding as it passed over Tong Pass.

"Vultures — the vultures have come. The Grand Marshal is on the march!"